I
A little while before the expressman called for the trunks, Judith
went for the last time through the wicket gate. She and Eileen had
been packing all day, and she was weary to the verge of collapse.
Theodora had hovered over her ever since she came from school, up in
the attic where winter garments must be looked over, down in the pantry
and cellar, where the Duttons were receiving orders for the temporary
closing of Vine Cottage. Through it all she had been silent and
unobtrusive, her face wearing an expression that well-nigh broke the
heart of the woman who loved her. Only once did she offer speech:
“I guess it’s better for my mamma to get natural again--because--the
other way she couldn’t have lived.”
The remedy that would work such magic once ought to be efficacious
again. Lavinia’s altered attitude towards her husband was, beyond
peradventure, the result of her visit in Bromfield. When Judith found
opportunity, she asked:
“Do you think you will be coming to New York this fall? There will
always be a guest room for you and father.”
“David can’t get away before spring, with the Marksley contract
crowding him to the wall, and Larimore gone all the time. If he had any
system about him, he wouldn’t let things crowd him that way. If I was a
contractor--”
“Then, perhaps you will come alone, and stop off at Bromfield on the
way home. Your visit there in July certainly gave you great benefit.”
“How much benefit--no one will ever know!” The black eyes snapped. “It
almost paid for all that has happened since. To see some one that you
thought was rich and prosperous--and find out that they have actually
less than you have--” She stopped, and the even white teeth clicked. “I
mean my brother Ted.” In crimson confusion she hurried to the window,
where she stood dumbly contemplating the street. When she turned, it
was to abuse Eileen so extravagantly that she became aware of the
blunder she was making.
“Mrs. Ascott, you mustn’t listen to what I am saying,” she floundered.
“Won’t you call me Judith, now that I am no longer Mrs. Ascott?”
Mrs. Trench laughed foolishly.
“I forgot that you and Larimore were married last night. I’ll forget my
own name if I have to live in this nightmare much longer.”
“Perhaps you can get it off your mind if you go to Bromfield for a few
weeks. I am sure Dr. Schubert and Nanny will look after--”
“I never want to see Bromfield again.”